


Shameless Love

by DarkAlpha67



Series: The Fucked Upped- Verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Lives, Consensual Actions, Explicit Language, Felicity Hale, Isaac is Derek's brother, Luca Hale - Freeform, M/M, Mechanic Derek, Mention and Implied underage sex, Mention of Child Abuse, Scott is Derek's half-brother, Shameless (US) Inspired, Teenager Stiles, Weed, badboy!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-12 01:26:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13536729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Derek did something stupid last night and now he had a loud mouth, 'don't tell me what to fuckin' do' Stiles Stilinski on his ass.





	Shameless Love

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so this fic or idea was heavily inspired by the series Shameless (US) and more specifically Mickey and Ian's relationship. It is not the same but think of the Hale's as the Gallagher's. The language and drug use is all Shameless inspired.
> 
> The history of the characters are greatly altered to fit the South Side life.
> 
> *
> 
> Sorry for any and all mistakes .

Life in Beacon Hills was lovely.

You had your happy families; the kind that paid attention to what their kids loved, worked a 9 to 5 job and returned home every night to tuck their little assholes to bed.

Then you had the semi-dysfunctional families. The kind that’s a little out of the norm but they make it fucking work, through love and loyalty to one another, or some wife cheated on her husband with his brother and was now pregnant with a kid she wasn’t sure was whose.

Those were the kind of families that lives on the upper side of Beacon Hills. Where the grass was supernatural green, where the parents had more than enough time to go jogging in the morning… They were the kind of families who loved to express their kindness and gratitude through gifts and who always settled whatever quarrel with the words and/or a high priced attorney.

Then…

You had the families who lived South side of Beacon Hills. Where drug busts were a weekly occurrence and if you happened to be shopping and a gun got pulled, your first move should be to get the fuck out unless you wanted to get shot or arrested for the weed you were no doubt carrying.

One family, well known for their highly dysfunctional and criminal behavior, dominated those streets of Beacon Hills.

And that family were the Hale’s.

 

*

 

“Derek…” A voice called from downstairs.

A man in his early twenties frowned at the annoying sound of his sister’s nerve grating pitch. The loud clanking and scraping of pots and plates traveled through the halls and right into his room. He smelt the ashy scent of cigarette smoke in the air and judging from the stuffy wind, some fucker left the window open again.

“Yo, Derek! Time to get up!” She called out to him again, louder than before.

Derek Hale groaned, rolling over on his lumpy bed, onto his stomach to shove his face into his pillow. He could feel the night sweat cool on his bare back from the heated wind. His sheets clung to his bare legs where he had kicked them off during his alcohol encouraged sleep.

“DEREK!” She called. “DEREK, GET THE FUCK UP!”

Derek jerked up, anger and annoyance coiling and making his hangover fucking unbearable. “ALL RIGHT! JESUS!” He screamed back, his voice husky yet alert.

Stumbling out of his thin bed sheet, Derek shuffled to the bathroom, vision blurry and mind still hazy from last night’s party. There was a lingering throb in the back of his head, a hangover slowly breaching the surface of his foggy mind.

He blindly headed to the toilet’s general direction. A loud whizzing sound echoed through the bathroom, and as his bladder slowly became emptier, his mind awoke. The fog cleared and Derek was left staring at himself in a large, stained wall mirror.

His raven dark hair stood up on ends, crusty from last night’s gel giving him a shocked appearance, His green eyes, red rimmed, where bloodshot, screaming out his lack of sleep for all the world to see. He felt like shit… he looked like shit.

Last night was never supposed to happen and he was sure he was gonna fucking get an ear full from Laura, which was why he took his time getting ready. Taking a cold shower without flinching, Derek steadily worked his hangover away, his tongue begging for a cup of strong coffee.

Dressed and ready for a day at work, Derek made his way down the narrow hall, kicking away any and all pieces of random shit littering the floor. He grunted as he leaned down to pick up a wet towel and dirty clothes that laid bundled up beneath the shoot. He barely paid attention as he tossed the dirty laundry down the shoot, hearing Laura curse out loud from downstairs.

As Derek jogged the creaking stairs, the mangled voiced of the Hale army become louder and louder until every word caused a sharp pain to shoot through his head.

“All right, guys! Get done, Derek’s ready.” Laura ordered from behind the kitchen counter as she hurriedly slapped down slices of baloney on eight slices of bread.

“No, I’m not.” Derek said toward her. “Hey, Luca.” He greeted in a soft tone at the baby boy staring up at him with big blue eyes. His messy curls lightened up his chubby little face and a wide, gummy smile broke out at the sound of Derek’s voice.

Derek leaned down, dropping another kiss on the head of mob sleek black hair that Felicity had somehow been lucky to enough get while they were stuck with wavy hair thanks to Rafael. “Morning everyone.” He tossed over his shoulder as he headed toward the kitchen section.

“Hey, Der.” Cora greeted with a drowsy voice, her eyes fixed on Luca as her son reached out for a piece of toast, scrunched it in his tiny fist before moving to his gaping mouth. “You still okay with taking him to work?”

Derek nodded, moving past a bustling Laura to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Bobby said it was okay.”

Thundering footsteps pounded down the steps and two bodies came stumbling down, a tall brunette girl shoving a blue eyed blonde with an annoyed expression on her face.

“… Taking so fucking long! You could have let me go first!” She complained, giving him another shove to get him out of the way to which he laughed. “It’s not a fucking joke, Isaac! I have school!”

“Calm your tits, Malia. Geez.” Isaac grumbled, flopping down beside Cora, stealing the last piece of toast of her plate.

Malia grunted and took a menacing step forward only to be brought to a jerking halt when Derek reached out and grasped her arm.

“Get done.” He pulled her back. “You can eat in the car.”

He got her famous bitch face for that but after years of living with his ‘punch-first-talk-never’ cousin, he, and everyone in this room, had grown immune to a look that would send most people running with a shit stained ass.

“Okay!” Laura elbowed him to step back as she placed four brown bags on the kitchen counter. “Here. Lunches and all that shit. Get going.”

Chairs scrapped back, shoes shuffled and bags vanished. Cora leaned down, pressing a kiss to Luca’s cheeks, “Love you, baby.” She said to him, turning her head for her baby to press a kiss of his own.

Various versions of ‘bye’ was shot around and Derek drowned the last bit of his coffee.

“You came in late last night.” Laura said conversationally.

Derek held back a wince and shot her a cold glare. He hated when she did that shit. Mentioning something for the sole purpose of letting the other person know that _she_ knew. She wouldn’t press a subject but she did want her brother’s and sister’s to know that she was there for them.

Now that shit might have been comforting back when he was a kid and going through some shit but he was a 22 year old man who didn’t do that whole ‘running to big sister when things get hard’. Nah, those days were passed.

“Mind your business.” Derek grunted out and turned around, heading for the front door, feeling that sick twist return in the pit of his gut.

Last night flashed before his eyes. The heated excitement in those brown eyes staring back him. Soft pink lips glistening with Derek’s spit, bruised and red from their hard kiss.

He felt the linger brush of his body, the tingling of his skin as those strong hands run all over his torso and down his neck.

Derek reached for the closed front, ripping it open. The heated air clung to his skin and Derek wished it would blow last night away, make it so that moment never fucking happened.

 

*

 

“Here you go, kid.” Derek said as he settled little Luca down onto the seat beside him, handing over the yogurt Mike always brought for the kid whenever he would be over.

“T’ank ooh, Unca Der.” He said, giving Derek a big smile before digging in his plastic spoon and smearing pink yogurt all over his mouth in a useless attempt to put it all in.

Derek shook his head and stuffed his face with the sandwich Laura made. The stale bread did nothing to his hunger and with every big bite he felt the queasiness in his stomach lessen.

He’d been scared as fuck when he’d dropped Isaac and them off at school today, especially when he saw the familiar black bike that needed a serious check-up but, thank-fuckin’- fully, Derek had been able to get the fuck outta dodge before he was seen.

His cell vibrated against the wooden table and Derek glanced over at it. The number was unknown and worried filled him in one shaky breath. Growing up in the South Side ‘UNKNOWN’ had many meanings and none of them were ever good.

He snatched up the cell and answered it with a gruff voice. “Hello.”

 _“If I didn’t know any better I’d say your speedy exit at school this morning had something to do with me.”_ Was the sarcastic answer he got.

Derek’s heart squeezed and his insides froze with fear for an entirely different reason. Taking in a deep breathe, Derek said. “How did you get my number?”

There was a scoff _. “I’m your brother’s best friend. Scott gladly handed it over when I said I needed help with the bike. Which wasn’t total bullshit but what did he know.”_

This time, Derek didn’t bother hiding his sigh of annoyance. “The fuck you want, Stiles?” Luca perked up at the mention of Stiles and Derek couldn’t help but wince. It was bad enough Stiles was so deeply linked to his fucking family… What hell was Derek thinking he could successfully avoid the kid?

 _“An answer.”_ Stiles said stonily.

Derek gritted his teeth together, forcing his anger away. Not at Stiles but at himself before being so fucking weak and allowing his feelings to control his fucking actions. “I already told you to forget last night. What part was unclear?”

_“See, dude, that shit don’t fly. Your mouth and hands weren’t being forced to do shit and you don’t get to act like last night never happened. I want answers and you better fucking give them, or I’m coming down there and you don’t want that.”_

“Oh, for fuck—“ Derek exhaled and dropped the phone. Turning to Luca, he forced the anger out of his tone. “Listen, buddy, I’m gonna be over there and have a quick little talk with Stiles, okay? You stay here and finish your yogurt.”

He waited until he got a nod from Luca before Derek pushed himself up from his seat. The hot sun burned down his bare shoulders and arms, the top part of his overalls handing limping down from his waist, his grey tank stained with grease.

When he was a good distance away, he brought the phone up to his ear, hearing Stiles’ screaming voice. _“Derek! You motherfucker, if hung up this fucking phone---“_

“Shut the fuck up! I had to get away for a second.” Derek snapped.

He ran a hand down his tired face, trying to gather his messed up thoughts. Stiles remained silent on the other end, clearly waiting for Derek to say something.

“I told you what last night meant. I told you to forget it happened.”

Stiles snorted. _“The hickey on my hip makes that really hard. You know the one you sucked before you moved to my dick.”_

“Fuck.” Derek cursed under his breath, hating himself for being in this goddamn position. He felt a flicker of amusement running through him when he called exactly how last night went and squashed it away a second later.

He had known what a mouthy fuck Stiles Stilinski was. The moment they met, face to face, had given Derek a perfectly clear idea of the kind of person his kid brother chose to call his best friend, which at the time wasn’t that big of a deal considering he didn’t know Scott existed until a few months before that and he didn’t know the kid well enough to pass judgement. But on that day, he’d taken one look at the fifteen year old, confused and fucking thrown off his feet by the sudden hurricane that came storming out nowhere, threatening to cut Jackson, Derek’s work buddy’s balls off if he ever thought of messing with some chick named Lydia again.

Then, as thuggish had he’d appeared, he glared over at Derek with no fear in his eyes. The second the words ‘What the fuck you looking at!’ had left that pouty mouth, Derek had been hooked in. He ignored his peeked interest because he was fuckin’ disturbed by it but there was no denying Stiles interested him.

 _“I want to see you.”_ Stiles stated.

“Excuse me?” Derek asked him in a gruff baritone. “I don’t gotta do shit, kid.”

 _“Either you meet me tonight or I’m coming to your work and making a fucking scene like only a Stilinski can do.”_ Stiles threatened.

“Fine! Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” He slammed his eyes shut, taking calming breaths through his nose. “Where you wanna meet?”

_“The baseball field.”_

“Really?” Derek deadpanned. He should’ve guessed that was where Stiles wanted to meet, that was the place where they had their first kiss after all.

“ _Yes, really.”_ Stiles snarked back. _“And don’t call me ‘kid’. Your cock’s been inside me and it’s just fucking weird.”_ And then he hung up, leaving the words to ring through Derek’s ears like a fucking reminder of just how fucked up this whole thing was.

The hand holding his phone fell down, feeling like lead. The tight sensation his chest from last night returned full force, making it hard to fucking breathe. Derek swallowed down the growing lump in his throat, his mind running scenario after scenario, trying to come up with a less messy ending.

Guess, Laura was gonna kill him after all.

Helplessly, Derek turned around and walked back to Luca who was busy licking the plastic yogurt container, not giving two shits about the mess on his cheeks.

 

*

 

“Cora! Come help here for a sec!” Laura called from downstairs.

Derek ignored the thundering noise that filled the entire house. He could hear the younger Hale’s splashing around in their outside pool. He should thank Toddy for helping them out again because his siblings had been riding his ass about the pool for a long time now.

The weather was becoming fucking unbearable but with the school year coming to a close, more Hale’s filled the house during the day, and that meant a lot of bitching and moaning. Hale’s loved to bitch back and forth and while that was all entertaining, Derek had been a wound up mess since that phone call with Stiles and every sarcastic word that left his siblings mouths pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

But, thank god, that would come to a stop tonight. As agreed, he’d be meeting Stiles had the baseball field in a few hours and with most of his family here and Scott bringing over his and Stiles’ little group, the chances of them getting caught were slim.

“Hey, Der—WHOA!” A loud voice exclaimed. “Fuck, where the hell do you get time to look like that?”

Rolling his eyes, Derek looked over his shoulder as he snatched a semi-clean top out of the messy pile on his bed. A cocky smirk greeted him, her lips blood red and spread wide, revealing those gleaming white teeth.

“Ask your husband.” Derek retorted. “He checks me out almost all day long when we have shifts together.”

On top of working at the Mike’s garage, Derek did part time work with the local fire department and filled in when they were short on staff which was becoming more frequent now that they weather had been becoming Hell level fucking degrees.

“Oh, baby, don’t flatter yourself.” Erica crooned out. “He only got eyes for me and that nine-inch your packing ain’t got shit on my Double-D’s.”

Groaning, Derek reached over for his only clean red shirt. “You had to take it too fuckin’ far.”

“Don’t be spreading shit about Boyd then.” She laughed, following after in as Derek stalked past her and down the stairs. The table was covered with dirty plates from the little meal Cora got from the dinner she worked at, the floor and muddy with footprints.

“Oh, for fuck—” He stepped out the back door, leaning out to shout, “hey! Don’t be fucking making the floors all wet. I am not cleaning up after you asses.”

“Fuck you!” Malia shouted seconds after being shoved off Isaac’s shoulders by Cora causing Felicity to scream with joy. Oh, they were get some complaints later on.

“Hey, Derek!” Lydia called from where she sat on a rickety chair. Allison, who was beside, only waved over but said nothing.

Things were hell between them, given Derek had fucked her Aunt when he was fifteen and the lady was well in her thirties but, what she didn’t know made their interaction bearable and ‘sides her relationship with Scott made it so they had get past it. For two girls from the North Side, they sure loved coming down to the slums for Scott, though.

“Where you going?” Laura asked from the steps where she sat in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top with Luca in her lap. Her hair, bundled up into a messy bun was dripping with water, down the side of her face.

“Out.” Derek replied, turning around before she could ask more. He felt a tap on his ass and tossed his arm up to flip Erica off from behind. Her loud, obnoxious laugh was all he got and somehow he got the feeling he hadn’t won that round.

He had just stepped out when he saw two people walking down the streets, a towel in each hand. He couldn’t help but smile when they both spotted him. A matching grin met his and they hurried in their steps, clearly noticing he was about to leave.

“Derek!” Melissa exclaimed, moving to wrap her arm around his neck in a tight hug. He gladly returned it, squeezing her back. “Oh, sweetie, are we late?”

“Nah, they just started but I got somewhere to be so,” He said dismissively, pulling back to grin at Scott. “You better hurry up, they’re playing Chicken and Allison’s already here.”

Scott’s entire face scrunched up in disbelief and he let out a loud, over dramatic groan. “Shit. They promised!” And he took off without a glance back only for his voice to travel back, screaming, “ALLISON!”

Derek shook his head, turning back to Melissa to see her doing the same thing. Things were awkward as fuck at first when she came around three years ago to tell them about Scott and how he was their younger brother. She’d been open and honest, saying she didn’t want to pile on and be a burden but with Scott now a teenager, he needed to know his family.

Laura had laughed, shaking her head, saying how Rafe was bound to have fucked some other kid’s life up with sperm.

Derek, however, had been pissed. He had known about Scott, seen the kid around the neighborhood. Hell, he’d helped beat up some fucker who’d been picking on him one day. The knowledge that Scott was his blood, his brother, was too much to handle in that moment. He’d stormed out the house and headed straight for La Pack, Erica’s bar, to get shit face.

Now though, after the whole welcoming to fucked family known as the Hale’s, Melissa was a better mother to them than the own piece of shit version they’d been stuck with. She helped where she could, offered a room to anyone at any time but even she was barely getting by.

Derek had crashed her place a couple times already, offered to fix something here and there and got a proper fucking lock fixed in the front door, and never one did he feel like an outsider.

“You need some help with that?” Derek asked, noticing the heavy plastic bag Melissa was carrying.

“Nah. It’s just some food and shit.” She gave a relaxed smile as though it wasn’t a fucking big deal that she was feeding people she shouldn’t have to feed. “You get goin’. You’re a young man on the hunt and all that.”

“Oh fuck, don’t.” Derek groaned, stepping away from her. She turned along with him, her grin wide and playful. “Don’t! I don’t know the hell Laura’s been telling you but she’s lying.”

He turned and walked away, trying to walk as fast _and_ normal as possible.

“SO YOU AREN’T GETTING LAID?” Melissa shouted out to him and Derek had too much respect for her to give her the finger.

 

*

 

The time it took for him to get to the fucking field, he already smoked through two cigarette and he was still itching for another. He didn’t know why he was so goddamn nervous over this meeting. It’s not the first time they’ve hung out. The two had frequently stumbling across the other and then, because they were ‘practically family, Derek’ they’d just sit back and share a smoke.

It happened too often to be considered accidental but Derek refused to think about that shit. He hadn’t actively sought Stiles out and as far as he was concerned, Stiles was a teenager who caught on shit for the sake of it and sneaking out to smoke some weed in a place where his cop daddy wouldn’t think to look for him was just another reason why they ran into each other beneath the bleachers.

Derek hopped the fence without much struggle, landing effortless on his feet. He walked further in, already knowing where to find Stiles and sure enough, there he was, leaning again the fence that separated the bleacher and the field, with his head tilted back and a swirling line of smoke leaving his gaping mouth.

He knew Stiles heard him but he refused to acknowledge Derek’s presence as he took another long drag of his joint which was almost half-way done before silently handing over to Derek when he was close enough. Their finger’s brushed when Derek took it, and he ignored the heat that shot down his spine when he placed the slightly damp part into his mouth.

“Didn’t think you’d fucking show.” Stiles commented as Derek came to stand beside him, mirroring him by leaning against the hard fence.

Derek hummed, holding in the fumes in for a beat before slowly letting it out. “You threatened to make a scene, the fuck was I supposed to do?”

“Oh please,” Stiles scoffed and Derek looked over to see an easy smirk playing on his lips. He felt something twist inside when he noticed the fading bruise beneath Stiles’ right eye and healing cut on his lip. “I wasn’t really gonna fuckin’ show up. What, I look like some whiny bitch to you?”

“Really wanna answer to that?” Derek asked.

“Fuck you.”

A grin formed on Derek face and he hurriedly took another drag to hide it, however from the light that flickered in Stiles amber brown eyes he caught it. And that seemed to open up the fuckin’ gates for him. Confidently, he dragged his eyes over Derek’s body, taking in the almost worn out jeans, the black AC/DC top, Isaac stole for him (He didn’t fucking believe his brother actually got it for him) and the red shirt he didn’t bother ironing over it with its sleeves rolled up.

“You got all dressed for me?” Stiles asked, his voice turning huskier and Derek flashed back to that night. Stiles’ voice had gotten deeper then too.

Forcing himself to behave, Derek growled out with as much annoyance as possible. “The fuck did you want to talk about, Stilinski?”

“You know. Don’t be playing dumb. It ain’t attractive.”

“’Fuck do I need to be attractive for? You?” Derek looked him dead in the eye. “We already fucked. Can’t go any further than that.”

“Can’t we?” Stiles challenged him, a stubborn yet wicked glint sparkling in his eyes and Derek cursed himself for being so fucking predictable. Stiles wanted to egg him on, get his mouth to spew the first bullshit and insulting thing he could think of and then, just like that, Stiles would flip the tables on them. Suddenly it was Derek who felt awkward, it was Derek’s mind who started imaging all the things they could do…

“I don’t have time for your shit, Stilinski.” Derek stated, finishing off the joint with one final pull. He felt it’s linger affect but he’d need more than one to get high, still though, one was enough to get his tongue to loosen up a bit. It’s why he and Stiles always smoked when they hung out.

“Okay.” Stiles stated and before Derek knew it, he had a body pressed up against him. The leg he’d brought up, was now casually fitted between Stiles’, and he had two long pale arms on either side of his head, caging him in.

Even with the tiny bit of height different between the two, Derek had never felt smaller than in that moment. He dropped the joint without thought, too focused on the way the outside light made Stiles’ eyes glow and caused his moles to stand out more than ever against his pale skin.

Derek’s hands itched to react. He wanted to draw Stiles in but at the same time push him away. “Really?” He deadpanned as though his dick wasn’t loving this new position. “What you think we gonna kiss and be all fuckin’ romantic now.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, alright. You may think that treating me like a stupid fuckin’ child is gonna help but it ain’t. Okay, South Side don’t give you time to an innocent child, you know that. So why don’t you just cut the shit and for once, stop trying to make me out for something I’m not.”

“You’re seventeen.” Derek pointed out.

“And I’ve been to juvie already. I’ve been shot already. Just like you.” Stiles raised his eyebrows daringly. “I’ve fucked and been fucked, just like you. Age is just fuckin’ number around here, so don’t get all high and mighty just ‘cause it’s legal for you to get alcohol, that ain’t a fuckin’ accomplishment.”

And ain’t that the hard truth. The truth Derek didn’t want to hear now or ever. The bitter fact that even though this man next to him --because there was no way Stiles was a fuckin’ kid—was seventeen, he’d been through almost the same shit as Derek and maybe even worse.

His mother was a druggy who OD. His father was an abusive, homophobic piece of shit who Stiles had to live with before he landed himself in Juvie (On purpose, Derek suspected) and got out a couple months later only to fall into foster care and have a local cop take him in. The same cop who had arrested him in the first place.

It was a fucked up story. A story Derek could relate to.

“You know I’m right.” Stiles said, his voice softer, almost urging Derek. A curved, yet firm waist, filled his palms and Derek hadn’t even been aware that he was reaching for Stiles until he felt the skin burn through the thin shirt he had on. “We like each other. What’s wrong about that?”

“Jesus.” Derek sighed in frustration. He gave Stiles a soft squeeze, dropping all pretenses that this wasn’t something he wanted. He wanted this, whatever the fuck this thing was between him and Stiles.

He liked that Stiles challenged him like the little shit that he was, going out of his way to work on Derek’s nerves, knowing where to push and when to pull to a point where Derek just want to give up fighting and give in. He didn’t remember the last time he wanted to let go of control.

Control had been something Derek had craved for. With Rafe off somewhere, no doubt drowning in booze, Derek had to be the father-figure in the house. He had control over how his brother’s and sister’s saw him and with Laura by his side, he had control over how much he could ease the work load to help her around a bit.

Whenever Talia popped in for cash or some food, Derek had control over that too. He knew better than to stand in her way and he hid all the important shit in places she’d yet to find.

Control was Derek’s power and Stiles came in and fucked all that up by not giving two shits that Derek was older and could easily hold his own in a fight with anyone, including Derek. He refused to be someone Derek could handle or deal with, and that was what Derek liked the most about Stiles Stilinski.

A hot breath fanned against his lips. “What the hell we gotta lose?”

Stiles leaned in and Derek felt his walls go up. Gritting his teeth together, Derek turned his head just in time. “This is South Side, Stiles.” He said to the empty space beside him. “We can’t be a fucking couple around here and we sure as shit won’t be holding hands and cuddling on some fuckin’ couch like we got all the time in the world.”

A frustrated groan tore through the younger man. A hand grabbed the edge of his chin, physically turning his head and Derek jerked out of the hold, glaring at Stiles. He gave him a little shove and Stiles got the message, taking a step back, getting out of Derek’s space.

“No one will give a shit about us. This is the twenty first century. Us liking dick will not be some big fucking deal. Your family know you’re into dudes, Scott’s revealed that much.” Stiles’ eyebrows shot up. “Everybody here knows better than to fuck with me for shit like that, and who the fuck is gonna go after _Derek Hale_?”

Derek took the challenge. “Scott,” He listed off. “My brother and your best friend will have my balls. And, oh! That’s right! Your fuckin’ father. You’re not 18 and I can get my ass thrown in jail because of you. So yeah, there are alotta shit stopping us. And not just that, but where the fuck to you get off telling me what I want and don’t want.”

“You’re a fuckin’ bitch.” Stiles shot at him.

Derek pushed himself off the fence, stalking over to Stiles, his body straightening so he was towering over the younger man. “Wanna say that again?” He asked, glaring down at Stiles who met him with a harsh look of his own.

He saw the tension building in those broad shoulders. Saw the way Stiles pressed his lips together defiantly, the corners curling on the sides as though he found the whole thing amusing and that only pissed Derek off further.

“Look, if that was what you’re scared of then we will keep behind closed doors until it is legally okay for us to fuck?” Stiles suggested lightly. “And as for Scott, he knows better than to tell me what and who I can’t do.”

“That simple, huh?” Derek snarked back at him. “Man, it must be nice having all the fucking answers. I don’t have time for a relationship, Stiles. Okay, I got a family I gotta take care of, two jobs at the moment.”

Stiles exhaled, exasperation and frustrating evident in his expression. He ran both hands through his hair, spiking up those array strands that were never flattened. Derek turned around, needing to put some space between himself and Stiles.

“My God, you Hale’s love complicating shit.” Stiles remarked behind and Derek’s body stiffened when he felt the light brush of a warm body. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm himself, tried to remain in control because, Jesus fuck, what the hell was wrong with him. He’s acting like some eager virgin.

Turning, Derek faced Stiles. “Why can’t you just forget about that night?” He asked him.

Stiles thumbed the pillow of his bottom lip, staring up at Derek with wide brown eyes, shrugging. “You’re under my skin, man. And I know I’m under yours. It’s why you’re still here when you could have walked away the second I brought this up.”

“That’s not— _hmmph!_ ” Hot lips swallowed his words.

Derek felt his shoulder hunch up at the touch, a burning, tingling sensation bursting through his entire body just as Stiles pressed in closer to him, hands confidently fitting themselves on the back of Derek’s head and on his hip. His hands fell, moving at their own accord, cupping Stiles’ jaw, finding purchase onto anything it could find.

A tongue swiped at his bottom lip and Derek opened his mouth without a thought, needing to taste Stiles, eager and craving to feeling a portion of what he’d felt last night. The tips of his fingers brushed against the strands at the nape of Stiles’ neck, and couldn’t help but move his hand to fist those locks.

“Hmm,” Stiles moaned into his mouth, tilting his head to deepening the kiss, tongue stroking, teeth nipping with such confidence that all Derek could do was spin them around, needing to take control of the situation. He backed Stiles up against the fence, hearing it clink loudly. His hand let go of Stiles’ jaw, fingers hooking into the spaces of the fence as he kissed the younger man harder and faster.

Stiles’ hand moved across his back, leaving his skin on burning for more in its wake. He moved it slowly, purposefully, and Derek bit down on his lip, letting him know he knew what Stiles was doing. The fucker laughed against his mouth, their lips leaving with wet pop. Derek had a second to inhale a breath of fresh air before it hitched as a hot mouth latching onto his neck just as Stiles dropping his hand to his crotch, squeezing Derek through the denim.

“Fuck.” Derek cursed and Stiles sunk his teeth into his neck. “No marks.” He curled the hand he had tangled through Stiles’ hair into a fist, tugging him back.

Stiles moved willingly, staring up at Derek then, lips glistening with spit and bruised red from the kiss. He squeezed Derek once, and his dick reacted, hardening at the touch, at what it meant. Derek slammed his eyes shut in frustration, leaning forward to knock his forehead lightly against Stiles’. He inhaled deeply, smelling weed and a hint of beer and Stiles.

“Fine.” He breathed out, giving up trying to fight something he didn’t even want to fuckin’ end. “All right, fine.”

A hand gripped his neck and Derek opened his eyes, looking into those bright pools of amber orbs. He saw the words that didn’t need speaking, he saw the questions and answers all in those eyes and then Stiles smiled at him.

This time, Derek was the one to lean in, pressing his lips against Stiles’ in the softest kiss they had ever shared. It was bare and last for a second before they shifted into who they were, and Stiles tightened his hold on Derek’s neck to pull closer, opening his mouth wider and Derek slotted their hips together.

They knew what they wanted. They had gotten want they wanted. There was no point in pretending anymore and Stiles, as though hearing Derek’s thoughts, slipping his hand into the waist band of Derek’s jeans, intention loud and clear.

“You better have a fuckin’ condom on you.” Derek grunted, trying to sound threatening as he let go of Stiles’ lips, mouthing down to the soft flesh of his neck.

“’Fuck I look like?” Stiles grumbled. “An idiot?”

Derek huffed, smirking.

**Author's Note:**

> So I changed a few things to fit with my story.
> 
> Isaac is Hale, as is Malia. 
> 
> Cora is a teen mom, and Luca's father is not in the picture. (She is Debbie in this story)
> 
> Stiles is not the Sherrif's biological son but in all other accounts he is John/Noah's (Whatever your comfortable with) son.


End file.
